Lay your hands on me
by RenjiMichaelisMustang
Summary: Victor has a migraine. Yuuri helps. A fluffy one-shot.


A/N: This is my first 'Yuri! On Ice' story. Victor has a migraine. Yuuri helps. Some fluff coming your way! Enjoy.

Rated M for a little lime.

Please, check out my awesome pack and their work! Links on my profile.

I own nothing.

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"Vitya, I'm home!"

With a sigh, Yuuri took off his shoes and placed them by the door, next to Victor's. The apartment he shared with his fiancé was completely dark, only illuminated by the dim light of the street lamps.

"Vitya, are you home?" Yuuri asked out loud while he shrugged off his coat, but only got silence for an answer. With a frown, he turned on the light and walked around the living room and kitchen, with no sign of his fiancé. _'How weird.'_ Yuuri thought. _'His shoes are at the entrance. Maybe he's asleep.'_

To be honest, he couldn't really blame Victor if that was the case. It had been a long day and even though it was only past 7:00 pm, he was already exhausted. He and Victor woke up at 5:00 am, took their dog Makkachin for a walk and returned home about an hour later. Victor prepared breakfast while Yuuri fed their beloved poodle. After a hearty meal and a _very_ nice shower –that ended with Victor's chest leaning against the wall, a gasping, moaning and trembling mess, while Yuuri found an unconventional but interesting use for the shower gel- they got ready and went to the ice rink.

The skating season was about to begin, and both Yuuri and Victor spent most of the day rehearsing their programs. Yuuri knew it was especially stressful for the Russian, who was not only training for his great return to the world of skating as the 'living legend', but it was also his second year as Yuuri's coach. Victor felt like he had to prove himself to the world all over again: that he wasn't too old to be skating, that he could still surprise and captivate the audience, that he could be an excellent trainer, that he could do both things at once because he's Victor _freaking_ Nikiforov! Five-time consecutive world champion. He had to prove that he could do it… that he _wouldn't _let the pressure get to him.

Every day, the dark circles under Victor's eyes were more evident, a clear sign that his fiancé was not sleeping well. On more than one occasion, Yuuri found his lover late at night sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in his hand while he studied his own routines as well as Yuuri's. Victor was exhausted and was running himself ragged, the stress of being perfect already taking its toll on him.

However, today had been different. Around 4:00 pm, Victor excused himself from practice, arguing that he had forgotten to buy Makkachin's food and that he would go to the store to get more, kissing his fiancé goodbye and promising they would meet at home later. Yuuri watched his fiancé as he left the ice rink, he thought Victor looked a little pale and more tired than usual, but he chose not to say anything; Victor would just deny everything, as always, swearing _'everything is fine.'_

Back at home, the brunette walked to the bedroom and when he opened the door, he was pounced by something big and hairy that knocked him down, a wet nose sniffing his face. Yuuri smiled as he slowly got up and turned the bedroom's light on.

"Hey Makka!" Yuuri cheerfully greeted the poodle while petting his ears. "Where's daddy, huh?"

At the mention of his master, Makkachin ran to the bathroom door, scratching it energetically and whimpering softly.

Nervous about the poodle's attitude, Yuuri approached the bathroom. He tried to see through the small gap between the door and the wall, but could not see light inside. He knocked softly.

"Vitya?"

When he didn't get an answer, he started knocking louder and raised his voice a little, "Vitya, Are you in there? Is everything ok?"

On the other side of the door, he heard a faint moan. Worriedly, Yuuri turned the knob, realizing that the door was unlocked. He quickly entered the bathroom and turned on the light. "Victor?"

His fiancé was on the floor, curled up in the small space between the shower and the toilet. His legs were bent in front of him, and his head rested on his knees. He wore a hoodie and pajama pants, his feet were bare. It seemed like he was muttering something, but his voice was muffled by the position of his head, so Yuuri wasn't sure. He immediately approached Victor and placed a hand on his head, lowering the hoodie and stroking the beautiful platinum hair.

"Vitya? Baby what's wrong?"

The Russian raised his head slowly, squinting his eyes against the light, his face contorted in pain as he covered himself with his hand. Yuuri noticed and asked, "Does the light bother you?"

A small whimper and a nod was his fiancé's response, but it was enough for Yuuri. He quickly shot up and turned the bathroom light off, kneeling again in front of Victor just a minute later and resumed stroking his hair.

"Vitya, my love, what's up?

"M-migraine. It hurts."

"Why are you on the bathroom floor?" Yuuri asked, whispering as not to disturb Victor.

"Nausea… I threw up a couple of times before you came home."

Yuuri delicately removed Victor's hand from his eyes, kissing the older man's closed eyelids in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "Open your eyes, Vitya."

Beautiful cerulean eyes fluttered open and Victor gave a tiny wince at the light that still filtered from the bedroom. His eyes met Yuuri's and he felt lost in the richest chocolate orbs he'd ever seen in his life. His Yuuri was here. Everything would be alright now. The thought brought a smile to his face.

A thumb gently caressed Victor's lips as they curved upwards, following the traces of the smile. "My gorgeous Vitya. Tell me what happened."

Victor swallowed and cleared his throat. He started talking in a voice so soft it was barely more than a whisper, so Yuuri had to come even closer to listen. "I woke up with a headache, but it didn't really bother me, so after our shower I took some painkillers and the pain went away." The Russian explained, sounding even more tired with every word.

"Victor, why ..." Yuuri began to protest, but was interrupted.

"Because I didn't think it was a big deal, and I didn't want to distract you. Your priority is to train, Yuuri and as your coach, it's my duty to see you improve." Victor stated. "Anyway, as I practiced my jumps I don't know, maybe spinning so much made me feel nauseated. I tried my best to ignore it, but it just got worse. I knew that if I said something you would only worry about me and stop practice to take me home. I didn't w-want that to happen, so th-that's why I lied about us running out of M-Makka's food. I'm s-sorry, Yuuri." The Russian said, his voice starting to slur with exhaustion.

"Aww, Vitya." Yuuri said as he tenderly lifted his fiancé's bangs with one hand and kissed his forehead. "I'm going to let this go just because you're sick, my beautiful and stubborn Vitya. Do you still feel nauseous?"

Victor shook his head slowly.

"N-no. Just a little d-dizzy."

"Let's go, then. I'll take you back to bed, you need to rest. Can you stand?"

Victor nodded slowly and began to sit up. He swayed a little, so Yuuri took him by the waist before he collapsed. Even in the half-illuminated room, Yuuri could see the tiredness on his fiancé's lovely features. He was surprised the Russian had endured so long without asking for help, but that was Victor Nikiforov for you: the living legend, the five-time world champion, the most beloved skater in Russia couldn't even take care of himself when he was sick. Sometimes he reminded Yuuri of a small child, but it was part of his charm. Yuuri really wouldn't have it in any other way.

Very slowly, they made their way out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. With great care and tenderness, he placed Victor on the bed and tucked him in. Yuuri changed into his pajamas and very carefully climbed into bed as well.

Careful not to move too much and aggravate his fiancé's pain, he laid Victor's back against his chest, resting his head on the pillow. Yuuri brought his lips against the Russian's temple and began to give him small kisses, one of his hands caressing the silky platinum strands he loved so much, while his other hand traced soft figures with his fingertips on his lover's defined abdomen. It wasn't much, but he knew it would help his partner relax. Yuuri's position was awkward and his arm would begin to cramp very soon, but he didn't care. He would stay in that position even if his whole body ached the next day. Victor was worth it.

And so Yuuri remained kissing and stroking and caring for his lover, whispering words of comfort and love to his fiance's ears. Telling him how much he loved him in Russian, English and Japanese. He stayed in that position until he felt Victor's body relax in his arms and his breathing evened out as he succumbed to sleep, a tiny smile grazing his lips. Yuuri smiled back as he gave his fiancé the tiniest of kisses. A silent promise that meant _'I love you Victor, and I'll stay here forever… until I kiss your pain away.'_


End file.
